Painted
by BlueRain09
Summary: How could you love something fake? Something Painted?  .ANTI-SHIKATEMA. .SAD SHIKAINO. .ONESHOT.


How could anyone love something fake?

Something hidden beneath coats of wax and misleading smiles. To fall for a simple girl, laced in makeup, who pours tea from a cracked vase. To want something far more then the show put on.

She watched the way Temari's hands trembled. The way that the only thing hiding her reddened face was the pale chalk on her cheeks. Her kimono, bunched up in her shaking palm. And Shikamaru. Shikamaru smiled.

She had been examining them for months. How the elder geisha turned to be jittery and teenage around him. It bothered her that such a woman threw down her guard for a man. But what caused the most pain was the realization that if she was in her shoe's she would have happily spazzed onto the floor. Losing the elegance she had only began to build up.

And though her heart still ached with every word they exchanged. Every look they shared. Every hug he gave her, she still did not understand.

Her face, eyes given from the heavens, blonde hair long and aglow, and cheekbones high and mighty. Was also painted, yet she had rebelled against it all to go with only a simple white, no eyeliner or curved red lines like Temari wore.

Ino had her natural beauty. Which was why she had more costumers.

Yet the Nara seemed to like the mask of beauty products. For Temari's demeanor was harsh and sarcastic. And he was a lazy, laid back ninja. Personality wise, it would be impossible for the two to be so attracted.

A sudden sound struck her awake, as she watched the former sand sibling walk away from her table, excusing herself. Ino's eyes traveled after her only to see a familiar face greet her. Hidan. He had been visiting the female quite daily.

Then a gasp formed on her lips as she saw the pair kiss.

Looking at Shikamaru, she saw him starring into the ceiling, deep in thought. She gathered herself, and stepped away from the cushion she had been resting on to join him.

"Nara-san?"

"Ahh Yamanaka, to what do I owe this honor?"

She rolled her eyes at his comment.

"I am a geisha. It is my job to keep the lone company."

"Troublesome. I am not lone."

She smirked, looking around. Playing dumb.

"I do not see Temari-san anywhere, do you?"

"She stepped out."

Her grin returned and he placed his cup onto the table. She brought out the sake, pouring it half full. He took a swig and began to study her.

"Shikamaru did you order Temari tonight?"

"I believe that's the way this business works, yes?"

"I meant, excuse the rudeness I present, why do you order Temari?"

"She keeps me amused."

She wanted to blurt out _and I don't?_ But kept her mouth tucked shut.

"Amused?"

"I like to look at her face."

Again, the thought of how something fake appealed to someone so plain.

"Why?"

His elbow on the wood, and eyes of hazel on her.

"She is painted. Like a picture."

"That make's her beautiful.."

"No."

This made the female stutter in shock, as the man sighed.

"But, that is what..."

"Geisha are to look at. But they don't have to be gorgeous. They just need to hold a man's interest."

With this, small footsteps padded into the lounge. A maid whispered that Ino was wanted in the main room, and the blonde excused herself from Shikamaru. His words fresh in her mind.

* * *

Sun raised over the hills. Making it glow in angelic preparations. She watched them. The house around her bustling over some important visitor. Her door was hit open, and the Oka-san* stumbled in. Muttering over the kimono that had tripped her.

"Yamanaka!"

"Hmm?"

"Stop dreaming! We have got a lot of important things to do!"

"Such as...?"

The tip of a fan hit her head.

"You're the woman to be entertaining the prime minster of Japan!"

At this, the girl felt a tingle of amazement. Her hands wrapped around the old lady, and tears started down her cheeks.

"Mom..does this mean..?"

Her mother laughed.

"Don't call me that here, and yes. Your officially a geisha."

* * *

The Japanese culture was new, and technologically advanced. It's prime minster wasn't. He had a long wrinkle stretched on his forehead. And droopy eyes that were to tired to look up, but when his eyes set on Ino.

There was some light beam that spread it's wings on him.

"My darling. How beautiful."

"Thank you, I would say that you are equal of standard."

"Would?"

"You are far better."

She saw his smile, and the relief on her fellow workers, and all the men surrounding this figure. They chatted on, flattery on ideas in politics and whispered words of the woman's mind. But her look. She caught herself on him. He was here, again.

Shikamaru Nara. Goddamned man.

Ino chuckled at something that was shared, but then she heard footsteps.

"General Kishimoto? Advocate Yagami? Secretary Haruno?"

"We excuse ourselves."

The president and the geisha, left alone. Her lips moved over each other in question.

"Yamanaka, my girl, you're so young."

She bowed in appreciation, the minister took her hand.

"The boy across the room. You fancy him don't you?"

This caused her to shake.

"You do. I will say only this once. A flower of you blooming. Your radiant shine, believe me any man would want to claim it. But you seem to have chosen who to shine upon, and that lad might be the luckiest man alive."

"He has no love for me, and I am an entertainer."

The old male laughed.

"I am also. But I can fall in love, that is why I'm divorced."

"Minister, your words are poetic and I agree with them dearly, but he has a lover."

"I don't think any one in their right mind would chose someone over you."

He winked, standing up to smooth his suit, and turned around.

"Go for it."

* * *

So her she was again. A face with no makeup. Not heavily intoxicated by blush or chalk. She was a peach color. She was natural.

Temari was in the ladies room. Shikamaru was alone, puffing on a cigarette.

"Nara-san."

"Hello."

His eyebrows rose at the fact that she had no paint smothered across her face.

"I understand."

"Hmm?"

She laid her small mirror onto the table. Asking him to look.

"When I look her, I see me. With nothing but what god has given me. And I think that beside any fact of beauty, I can be just like her. I can keep you interested. Even if I'm not painted."

"Painted? Ino, no one likes something painted."

"But you...Temari...her face..."

"Her face? I don't like it because of the load of products on it. I like it because it's easy to look at. I don't have to think of anything. There's a white covering on her face."

"And I..."

He cupped her chin, making her look up at him.

"You are to complex. You are to Ino. To yourself to be a geisha. And because of this I can't look at you. Your face isn't painted. You're the truth."

He was leaning closer.

"The truth?"

"Yes, and I'm afraid of that.."

His lips settled on hers. She didn't react.

"Why?"

"Because the truth is I love you. And when I look at you, I see it. There on your face. I love you."

She let out a giggle. She burst out laughing. Thinking, all this time being natural, not having to hide was the bad thing? Because when you were yourself you scared others with the truth written on your face?

"Shikamaru."

"Ino?"

"Do you know what I see when I look at you?"

"No, care to say?."

She got up, the kimono bunched at her feet.

"A painted, painted liar."

_**The End~**_

_**(This is sad ShikaIno)**_

_**Thanks for reading :)**_

_**Please Review **_


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